It must be that I am not made to be a dead man, but these places and this discussion seem like a dream, and not a dream dreamed by me but by someone else still to be born.
Hand in hand they whispered for a while. The girl nodded and the bear laughed. Together, they made their way down the corridor and to the foot of the stairs.
Hearing her laugh nearly made him cum in his pants like a teenager, not a one hundred and twenty-five year old werewolf.
The mistakes I've made are dead to me. But I can't take back the things I never did.
No one ever forgets a toy that made him or her supremely happy as a child, even if that toy is replaced by one like it that is much nicer.
One of the odd things about middle age...was the strange decisions a man discovers he’s made by not really making them.
But they get some comfort out of the made up stories. And if that helps them get along maybe I should not poke fun.
Lost. The therapist made it sound as if the person could be found. As if death wasn’t final and irrevocable.
But that I should have ended up in a place like this seems too custom-made a nightmare to be the work of mere ill fortune.
…secondhand bookstores have pilgrims. The words out of print are a call to arms for those who seek a Holy Grail made of paper and ink.
Every word was a singing sparrow, a magic trick, a truffle for me. The words made me laugh in delight.
She looked back as well as she could; but it was all confusion. She had taken up the idea, she supposed and made everything bend to it.
Our world is made up of a myriad of microcosms, of tiny worlds, each with its own habitues, every one known to the others.
People don't want to know. They have to be made to know. Whether they act on what they know is up to them. But they have to know.
The loneliness of command had made Eisenhower emotionally self-sufficient.
It was the nicest thing she could imagine. It made her want to have his babies and give him both of her kidneys.
See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask for no guarantees, ask for no security.
Goodbye, Hari, my love. Remember always--all you did for me.” -I did nothing for you.” -You loved me and your love made me--human.
He loved that she made him something he never thought he'd been capable of being. Someone who stayed.
Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as a secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.
Moroi shied from the sunlight but as I watched Sydney, I knew without a doubt that humans had been made for the sun.
